“Let me go,” I said, yanking on my arm.
“It’s you, isn’t it?”
I shook my head. “No.”
There was no stopping him from turning me around, no matter how much I resisted. He was almost a foot taller than me and twice my weight—there was nothing I could do. But I refused to look up. I couldn’t. If I showed interest, he would see. Six would come.
I cursed the heavens and prayed to hell that the devil wouldn’t take away the angel before me.
“Please.” With the warm hand I knew so well, he tipped my chin up.
His blue eyes were as soft and caring as I remembered. I wanted to get lost in them and have them take me back to another time.
My face scrunched up as I held in a sob, shaking my head back and forth. “Let me go. Please, you have to let me go.”
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Over the side of his arm I saw the figure I dreaded the most headed our way. My eyes popped wide as my breath sped up.
“Please, Digby. Please, if you ever loved me, let me go.” My bottom lip trembled, tears flowing down my face.
“Pais, calm down.”
“He’ll kill you,” I said with a hiss.
“You didn’t do it, did you?” It wasn’t really a question, but more of an affirmation to himself of what happened.
I nodded. “I didn’t do any of it.” My whole body shook as I glanced frantically around. “If he sees you—”
I didn’t get to finish as he leaned down. Soft lips I’d almost forgotten pressed against mine. Strong arms that held me with care and a possessive desire slipped around my waist.
“I thought you were dead.” Tears trailed down his cheeks as his forehead rested on mine.
“You have to leave here. Go home. Please.”
“I’ll get you out of here.”
I shook my head. “No. You can’t.”
Confusion swirled in his eyes. His thumb swiped against my cheek. “Let me help.”
“Then leave and forget you saw me. Leave. Today.”
“I’ll get the cops.”
I shook my head. “You can’t. He’ll kill me. You can’t tell anyone. If you say anything, if you alert the police, he will kill me. He will know. Trust me.”
His eyes switched focus between each of mine. Utter pain and devastation etched in the growing fine lines of his face at my words.
“Please, Digby. Don’t do anything. He’ll come after you, and I want you to live. I need you to live.”
He scrunched his brow and gritted his teeth. “I want to help you.”
“Then give me a last kiss and run for your life.” I ran my hand up his chest to his face to wipe his tears while my own continued. “Give me some time. I’ll contact you. Just… Don’t die for me.” My chest constricted, each second the panic growing. “Promise me you won’t do anything.”
He nodded in agreement. “I won’t. Find a way. I’ll wait.” His lips pressed against mine again. “I still love you, Pais.”
“I should have gone with you,” I whispered through my tears. “Now kiss me goodbye…one last time.”
Lips, tongues, mouths devouring. I could taste the salt of our tears on our lips. Feel the desperation of his body against mine, like he was trying to fold me into his. To keep me safe.
But there was no keeping me safe from an assassin.
One last tongue battle, one last feeling of his lips against mine. One last time feeling loved and cherished.
One last goodbye.
It took every bit of strength in me to pull away, to leave him.
Digby was the chance I’d been waiting for to escape, but there was no way I was going to risk his life in order to save mine. Even if I was ever able to get away from Six, there was already no way to go back.
Digby was a past that would never be my future, even if a part of me still loved him.
My future was written in blood and bathed in black.
Only a few steps later was when I intersected with Six. His jaw was tight, eyes empty as he looked down at my face. I was a mess, and there was no hiding it from him. He glanced behind me, and I didn’t dare to do the same.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and yanked me away from Digby.
For the two-block trek back to the hotel, anger rolled off Six’s back, creating a tension that had people inadvertently steering clear.
The moment we were back in the room, he was stuffing things in suitcases.
“Get moving.”
“We’re leaving?” I asked. We’d just been on our way to meet a contact.
His spine straightened and he turned, a cold, hard glare meeting my gaze. “Who was he?”
I shook my head. “No one.”
He picked up his gun and cocked it before slipping it into his waistband.
“No!” I blocked his path do the door.
“He knows you. He saw you.”
“He didn’t.”
His hand gripped my neck, then he pushed me against the wall, baring his teeth. “Who is he, Lacey?” His hand tightened as he lifted me off the ground by my neck. “He was fucking kissing you. Holding you. In an intimate way,” he seethed. “You were crying. He knew you. What did you tell him?”